Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but this idea.

Warnings: Before you do anything illegal, really think about what you're doing. If you find yourself depending on anything to cope with your day to day- whether that's a substance, a food, a tv show, or even harry freakin' potter- stop and think. Maybe there's something you need to address. That's my PSA, thanks for reading.

"So, how do I do this?" Ron asked. The thing he was holding between his fingers reminded him of a mummy, the way the white paper was rolled and wrapped over and over. He smiled thinking of his family's trip to Egypt to visit Bill—Bill, whose face was wrapped in bandages after Greyback attacked him. He felt a cold emptiness in his gut as he continued to twirl it in his fingers.

"You light the spliff, and then you inhale like you're sipping through a straw," George instructed. He was speaking slower than usual, and although Ron was glad he was speaking, it worried him a bit.

"Where did you get this, anyway?" Ron wondered aloud. He stared at it and put it to his nose to smell it. It didn't smell entirely unpleasant. George chuckled, a trace of a smile on his face. "I was over at Angelina's house, and her muggle cousins let me try some," he explained, before adding, "It's not bad, really. Helps me sleep."

Ron looked at his brother with sadness. Ron knew George was trying, and he had been putting on a good show. He still tried to make jokes, and he was managing the shop. But the cracks were glaringly obvious to Ron. He couldn't imagine how lonely he must feel without his other half.

"Well, then, let's try it!" Ron exclaimed, putting the blunt between his lips. He felt nervous but eager to show his brother that he was there for him.

"Alright, baby brother. Let's," George leaned closer with his wand pointed at it. He hesitated and asked, "You sure? Hermione won't get upset or anything, will she?"

Ron thought about his girlfriend who was in the living room with Harry, Ginny, and Luna. Will she? Ron wasn't sure if he was breaking any rules, although his intuition told him that this might not be legal. But he felt like George needed him, otherwise he wouldn't have come up to his room and offered it. In fact, George seldom spent time alone with any of his siblings anymore, opting instead to only come out for big get-togethers when the attention wouldn't solely be on him. The occasion today was Harry's birthday party at Grimmauld Place.

"No, I don't think so," Ron decided. George shrugged. "Okay… So, you ready? Just start breathing in when I light it," he instructed.

"Incendio," George murmured, touching the wand to the spliff. Ron began to suck in air like George instructed. The taste reminded Ron of green shrubs, dirt, and of skunks, but surprisingly, he didn't mind it. He exhaled, and a plume of smoke left his mouth. He felt like a dragon.

"What do you think?" George asked, his smile growing wider.

"I don't feel any different. Am I supposed to?" Ron asked. He had noticed that George was acting a little strange at dinner, and when he confronted him about it, George had fessed up. "It makes you feel relaxed. But also really aware of everything. Everything just feels like more. Food tastes better too," George had described. With the mention of food, Ron became curious.

"You want to try again?" George offered, his wand at the ready. Ron nodded, and he began to take another deep breath in. He felt like a balloon as his lungs filled with the smoke. Right when he felt like his lungs couldn't take in any more air, he began to cough, smoke bursting out of his mouth in spurts. His torso shook and convulsed.

"Ron? Are you alright?" Hermione called out from the hallway. George and Ron looked at each other, their eyes wide in fright. "Shit!" they both said, as George took the joint and placed it on the floor underneath his bed. Ron was waving at the air as he tried to clear the smoke.

"What are you guys doing?" Hermione asked, closing the door behind her. Her eyebrows furrowed and her nose twitched, sniffing the room. She walked over to Ron's bed and crouched beside it. Ron felt dread creep down his spine.

"What is this?" she asked as she stood up, holding the spliff in her hand. Ron's mouth went dry as he grasped for something to say. "It's a mummy," he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, a goofy smile spreading wide across his face. George snorted and began to laugh silently. Soon, they were both doubled over as sound of their laughter filled the room.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, my gods," she muttered, "You two are high!"

Ron looked at her and stood up straight. He forced his face to become suddenly serious as he responded slowly and deliberately, "I don't know what you're talking about. We are not highs, we are Weasleys!"

At that, he began to laugh again, his eyes closed in joy. George let out a howl as he sat on the floor, clutching his stomach in laughter. "That doesn't even make sense, Ronnie," George wheezed. Ron took a deep breath in and tried to compose himself. He loved his brother, yes. But he loved Hermione as well. He couldn't lose her too.

"Hermione, I'm sorry I… George and I, we were just—" Ron began to apologize.

What he saw rendered both George and him speechless. Hermione had the spliff in her mouth. "So, how do I do this?" she asked, her eyes set with determination.

"Whoa! Hermione, you don't have to—" Ron started. Was this Hermione? His hand touched her hair to make sure she was real.

"I know, Ron," she replied, taking the spliff out of her mouth as she sat down on the floor across from George. "I've actually read a bit of research on marijuana. Some research suggests that marijuana had less negative effects on the body than alcohol. Some scientists even propose that it should be used for various conditions, like pain management, depression, and anxiety!" she explained, her eyes lighting up the way they did any time she spoke about things she's learned. Ron felt an urge to kiss her as he joined them on the floor.

"You are blowing my mind… with your… mind," Ron drawled, looking at Hermione as if for the first time.

"Thank you, Ron," she responded with a shy smile. Ron felt surprised when he realized that she wasn't angry at them.

"So… you're not mad at us?" George asked hesitantly, as if reading his mind. Hermione opened her mouth as if to speak before looking at George. She shook her head slowly, staring at the joint in her hand.

"It's good to have you around, George," she said quietly. George's face looked morose as he stared at his hands. They sat in silence for a bit, before he mumbled, "I'm sorry I got you high, Ron."

"Don't be sorry. I got to hear you laugh again," Ron replied, chuckling as he nudged George's shoulder.

"You can't do it too much though, yeah? It'll do you no good to be like me, getting high just to fall asleep," George warned. His eyes became glassy, and his bottom lip quivered. Ron nodded. "I won't. Promise."

"I'm sorry about Fred," Hermione whispered. The two Weasleys turned their heads to look at her with varying degrees of shock on their faces. Everyone had been trying so hard to avoid mentioning his name.

"He didn't deserve to die," Ron said lowly. Silence filled the room again.

After a few minutes, George sat up and clapped his hands together. He wore an overly bright smile. "Well, that was a right downer, huh?" He stood up to leave before Hermione spoke.

"Show me how to do it."

The brothers looked at her again. "You don't have to do—" Ron attempted.

"I know, I know. But, I just feel like… we fought in a war! We are barely adults. And we fought, and we survived. I want to live!" Hermione insisted, exasperation in her voice. She sounded tired as she added, "You and Fred brought a lot of joy. And now, it's hard. But we fought for that. We fought so we could…" she trailed off. Ron held her hand as tears filled his eyes too. "We fought so we could have a world where we didn't have to worry about that mad man and his fucking army hunting our every move… so that we could live. And be safe. And happy. Together. We deserve that much."

Ron couldn't care that he was crying. It was a release to be able to cry with George and Hermione. He cried thinking about his brothers, the one who was killed and the one left behind. He cried thinking about Hermione's broken body in his arms as he ran up the beach towards Shell Cottage. For Remus and Tonks. For Mad Eye. For Dobby. And finally, he cried tears of relief as he thought about the future. His future. Their future.

George wiped tears from his face. "It's been so fucking lonely without him," he said, "I feel like I'm dying some days. But I'm not. I'm still here. And that's a good thing, yeah?"

Ron smiled gently. "We're still here," he replied. Looking at George, he added, "We're here with you."

Hermione put the spliff back between her lips. "Let's do this."

Ron took his wand and touched it to the blunt. Solemnly, he glanced at George, who smiled gratefully. Taking a breath, he whispered, "Incendio."

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